Swan Dance
by KoolJack1
Summary: Takes place at the end of season 7, and right after.


Spencer Reid knew he wasn't a guy women were attracted to, especially when he was younger. Always too tall, always too skinny, always talked too much, and always said the wrong thing. He didn't have much experience with romance, seeing as he'd never been on an actual date. Of course, a few _had_ been attracted to him, as a result of him saving their lives. Despite what the others said, those women liked him because he protected them. He saved them. It wasn't a bad thing, but they wouldn't have turned their head at him or even registered his existence, if he wasn't the reason they still could.

He accepted that about himself, he was at peace with loneliness. At least, that's what he told himself, while he sat in his empty apartment rereading the same books that he'd had since grade school. _'__Not someone I could ever be sexually attracted to,' _Garcia had reminded him. It wasn't the same if she brought him out, because he couldn't be flaunted off in front of the man she loved. No one got jealous of the woman Spencer Reid was around. He'd walk around with J.J., Emily, and Garcia on the weekends and watch them try on clothes, and dangle the ones they decided they wanted from his skinny arms. Those were his women, and he'd long since been okay with that.

Until he watched Emily circle the outside of the happy crowed. He stood in place, watching everyone dance happily with each other. Lovers and friends, people whose lives had crossed by a stroke of luck, and changed forever. Shyness kept him right where he was, unable-or unwilling-to attempt to find someone he could dance with. He knew J.J. would, or Garcia; but all he could do was think about how he had his own person to dance with, one that he didn't have to give back after one song. When he closed his eyes and pictured her, he saw Emily's face. When he opened them again, there she was to his right; doing exactly what he was doing. A once in a lifetime chance was his, and he felt his feet moving in her direction before he knew he'd made up his mind.

"Rossi knows how to throw a party," he commented, sipping on his wine.

She turned to look at him, seeing slightly startled by his approach, then did a double take, "Are you _drinking_, Spencer Reid?"

He shrugged sheepishly, "Gotta grow up sometime." She laughed, tipping her head back slightly like she always did. "And your not?"

A pensive look took over her features and she glanced at him again, "I'm not much in the party mood, I have a lot on my mind."

He knew how she felt, and again he was faced with a once in a lifetime chance. Ghosts of his old insecurities turned his stomach, but he took a deep breath and placed his drink down. "So let me take your mind off all that," he held out his hand. She looked from his extended limb, and to his face thoughtfully, before taking it.

They moved into the cluster of swaying bodies, and Reid pulled her close to him. They stood chests pressed together, and Reid smiled at her awkwardly before placing a gentle hand on her hip. She laughed quietly and hugged him with one arm, and grasped his hand the other. He moved them slowly, taking cues from Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi as he watched them over her shoulder.

"Never in my life would I have thought I'd ever be dancing with Spencer Reid. I didn't know you would even be willing to dance," she whispered and he smiled. It was a natural, easy smile, and he realized he hadn't smiled like that in a long time.

"Even if you knew, it's not like you would have done it sooner." He meant it as a joke, but he felt her smile that was pressed against his skin fall. All he felt was her warm breath that made the hairs on his neck stand up. It clicked for him then that they were so closed, he could make out each line of her body. She held him a little tighter after a few minutes of silence, and his arm went more fully around her, far enough down to feel the arch of the base of her spine. He let his eyes fall shut as she released his hand and locked it around him, and his fell to hold her other hip. It was surreal, and he was convinced time had stopped, if it even existed.

"I want a dance with the beautiful Emily, let me cut in, Pretty Boy." His eyes flew open and he automatically took a step back. His cheeks flushed red when he noticed all eyes were on them, even if they all pretended to keep dancing. Emily grinned at Morgan, and he enthusiastically grabbed her hand and spun her around. Her laugh let him know he was already a distant memory, and he felt like a snake as he slithered away back into the shadows that surrounded the dancers. He grabbed his glass and hurried in Rossi's big glass door, and pouring himself a fresh glass of wine. Unsure what to do with himself, he sat on the stairs outside Rossi's side door. He sipped his wine, listened to the music, and tried to convince himself he only danced with her to make her feel better.

"Reid?" He swore he heard someone say, but he chose not to care. "Hey, Spencer?" More worried now, and less faint. "Spencer," Louder, persistent, and now it was shaking him. His eyes opened slowly, the room spinning around him. Emily's blurry face hovered over his, and he blinked in an attempt to focus, but his eyes were like a broken camera lens. "Are you drunk?"

He tried to sit up a little, glancing over at his empty glass and now empty wine bottle on the coffee table next to him. It was already less than half when he took some, did he drink the rest? "What time is it?" He slurred, and Emily rested a hand on his chest, kneeling next to the couch.

"A little after two in the morning."

He didn't remember falling asleep, or getting drunk, or even going in on the couch. Yet here he was, drunk on David Rossi's couch. She must have seen the confusion in his eyes because she patted his shoulder, "I'll take you home, let me get Hotch and Morgan to help you." His head fell back when she left, and he let himself fall back into his daze.

Next thing he knew, he was being hoisted to his feet; his arms draped over two sets of shoulders. He vaguely registered a Morgan whispering to Hotch that someone with Reid's history shouldn't drink this much. He wanted to tell him he was okay, but before he could construct the words, he was being seated in a car. He thought he heard Morgan tell Emily that if she couldn't do it, he'd take him home, and he thought he heard her reply that she could handle it and that she wanted to. He couldn't open his eyes enough to see who got in the driver side, so instead he rested his head against the window and hoped it was Emily.

First thing he felt the next morning, was the sun beating down on his face from the window. He instantly turned his head, and instantly regretted it. Red lights danced behind his eye lids, and he groaned, hissing when a cold rag was pressed against his face. "I brought you some water and some aspirin." He opened his eye a crack and looked up at Emily, "And I made you some toast."

He sat up and leaned against the headboard of what he identified as his bed, and swallowed the pills and a few extra gulps of water. "I can't believe I drank that much."

She chuckled, "Yeah, me either."

"I need to shower," he groaned, slowly turning away from her to get to his feet. "Why did you stay? You didn't have to."

She watched him stretch like a cat, his eyes barely opened enough for him to see. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, I think you blacked out."

The holes in his memory confirmed that she was right, "What time is it?"

"Quarter after four."

"I was asleep all that time?" anxiety rushed through him, and he felt stupid. Stupid for getting so drunk, stupid for wasting his whole day, and hers. "God, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Reid. I ate, read, and watched some T.V., I enjoyed myself." He looked over at her, surprised to find her dressed in a t-shirt of his, and a pair of his boxers. "Sorry, I didn't have any clothes to change into," she replied as if she read his mind.

Swallowing thickly, he replied, "No problem, I just really need a shower." He didn't look at her as he walked past and into the bathroom, nor did he look at his reflection. He felt sticky and gross, and the cool water felt so good on his body. He washed, soaping himself twice just for good measure.

When he got out and went to redress, he realized he wasn't in the same clothes either. Flannel pants and a white t-shirt, but thankfully the same boxers. His face got hot at the thought Emily helping him change himself. A small part of him hoped she had left while he was showering, but the larger portion of him was relieved to find her buttering a piece of toast for herself in his kitchen.

"Eat that, it'll make you feel a little better," she said sympathetically. He sat down with the plate that carried two brown slices of bread. Unsure of how his stomach would respond, he took a few test bites before realizing how starved he really was.

"Thank you, for everything." She smiled back at him, not the slightest bit angry.

"It really isn't a big deal, I enjoyed my peaceful day." She spent the whole day, in his house, on his couch, in his clothes, touching his stuff, and he slept through the whole thing. He got up and took a slow step towards her, finding the courage to take another. And another, until they were face to face.

His lips brushed against hers gently, "Thank you," he said again. She looked into his eyes, and he felt something in his stomach tingle. She grabbed his face and kissed him again, both of their eyes shutting. Their mouths opened and their tongues met as if they had been waiting to do this all along. Maybe they had.

He leaned forward and pressed her against the counter, her hands running up and down his back. She broke away, breathless, and he leaned down to start on her neck. "God, Spencer, I didn't know you could kiss like that."

He didn't answer, but he nibbled gently on her neck, just enough to make her legs go weak. He made a little noise in his throat when her hands tangled in his hair and he felt all of the air leave her lungs in a soft sigh.

They seemed to take the first step towards his bedroom at the same time, and it thrilled him. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, they gracefully fell onto his bed, her mouth latching onto the soft spot under his ear. It felt so right, working a shirt, that belonged to him, over her head. He never imagined this feeling so right before, yet here he was, completely at ease. She let her hands travel up his back, under the shirt, pulling it up with her as she went. They kissed for what seemed like forever, until Emily's hands worked their way into the back of his pants. Her warm hands grasped his ass, and he gasped quietly. "We don't have to do this," he said, more out of habit than anything else. He wanted to provide a way out, if she was to snap out of it and realize the mistake she was making.

She didn't resist, instead she pulled him closer, grinding him against her. "Why now? What changed?"

"Spencer, I adore you're talking, but now really isn't the time," she replied, pushing him to sit back on his heels so she could remove his boxers. He took the opportunity to pull his own shirt completely off, finding her left just in a bra when he freed his head of the garment. He averted his gaze, doing his best to keep his eyes locked on her face even as she arched up to unhook her bra.

"Emily, if this is a reaction to something that's been bothering you, I don't want to do this. We can-," her hands found the front of his pants this time, and his sentence was cut short by a moan.

"I want to do this Reid, I have wanted to for a long time." That was the first time they looked into each others eyes, _really _looked. This time, he saw something different in her, something he was afraid to identify as affection. She sat up slightly, just enough to embrace him, before falling back and taking him with her. Lips locked again and he braced himself on either side of her face while her hands worked on lowering his pants and boxers all at once. His longish hair tickled her nose when he rest his forehead against her shoulder, and she turned her head to kiss his ear. "Where do you keep the condoms?" He bit back a laugh, surprised that she assumed he even had any. He never really thought anyone-especially the team- would see a need for him to possess any. Making no comment, he reached across the bed to the night stand, fishing around blindly for the box. All without looking, he retrieved a small silver package, that she took from him. He sat back again, not breathing as she worked it onto him.

Ghosts of the past suddenly swam in his stomach, and his chest tightened with anxiety. What if this was a hallucination of the headaches that magically disappeared? What if they didn't disappear at all, and he was living in his own mind somewhere far far away, where no one cared to look? Or what if this was a relapse, and he was living in a Dilaudid induced world? Emily brought him back then, pulling him down to lay on top of her again, "Stop worrying, I want to do this and it's really happening, Spencer."

He moaned, kissing her roughly, sliding a hand down between them to rub her. She was wet already, and he squeezed his eyes tightly when he felt her moan into his mouth. She spurred him on by wrapping her long legs around his waist, and he gently pushed into her. The universe froze momentarily, and for once all he could do was just feel.

He started gently at first, listening to her gasp and groan quietly. When her hands came up around his to hold onto him, he began to move faster. There were few times Spencer felt out of control, and even fewer times that he liked the feeling. Usually, he felt it when a case got out of hand and bodies kept popping up, and when he was younger, he felt it when his mother just couldn't remember who he was. Never like this, he never felt so out of control with someone else, he never felt so okay with it. He kissed her again, and again, burying his face in her neck when she whispered his name. He didn't know his name could sound so perfect.

Too exhausted to move, Reid carefully laid on top of her, cautious of putting too much weight on her. Her breath began to even out again, blowing over his skin like a gentle breeze. He rolled off of her after a few minutes, yawning as he stretched his arm out for her to lay on his chest. She laughed as he yawned, "Typical man, have sex and fall asleep."

A lazy smile played on his lips as he shut his eyes, "You forgot eat. Eat, have sex, sleep."

"I'm going to buy a shirt that says that for you. You just slept for the longest time, and your sleeping again?" She huffed, her fingers traveling up and down his chest. His muscles in his chest and stomach twitched with each pass she made, and she turned her head to kiss his nipple.

"Stop that," he whispered, his arm bending to fold around her shoulder to hold her closer.

"Getting all hot and bothered again?" She teased, flicking his other nipple.

"No, if you don't stop I'll tell the team that you seduced me. Morgan and Garcia will never let you live it down."


End file.
